Texas Brides Collection (79 page)

B
enjamin looked into Pearl’s shining brown eyes. For the first time since he’d met her, they sparkled with joy. He propped his elbow on the kitchen table and stroked his clean-shaven chin. “What are your plans? And, uh, do they include me?”

“They can if you want them to.” Pearl averted her gaze, then looked back up at him. “If you really do want to get away from life at Sadie’s. I mean, I think you do. You followed me out here. And so far you haven’t hightailed it back to Denmark in spite of Ma’s preaching.”

He leaned back in his chair. “Her preaching must not bother you much. You’re still here.”

Pearl shook her head. “And I want to stay here. Listen—I know Ma must seem peculiar to you. She’s not at all like the women who raised you. I know she takes some getting used to; but she’s my ma, and I love her.”

“You’re a fine daughter.”

Pearl’s grin looked wry. “I’m trying to improve.”

Her words stung. In the solitude of the country, he could see where he needed to improve, too. Maybe it would be nice to take a break from his life of gambling. Sleeping in late every day, up all night—what kind of life was that? Besides, maybe taking a new turn would elevate him in Pearl’s eyes. Funny, he had come out here to talk her into changing her life back to the way it was, and instead, she had convinced him to try a new way of living.

“So do you think you can help me realize my dream of making this a real ranch?” Pearl asked.

“I’d like to, but what use do you think I’d be around here? I don’t know anything about ranching, and anyhow, it seems to me there isn’t much of a ranch to handle. You told me your ma only grows enough vegetables to keep herself fed.”

“Yes.”

“I’ve seen your stable. You don’t have horses to break, and even if you did, there’s not much room for them to run. You do a pretty good job on your own of taking care of the chickens, and how much work is it to take care of two pigs, a few chickens, and one cow? Even your ma could do that much on her own before she got sick.”

“True. But I have plans, and you can be a part of them. If you joined us here on the ranch, we could buy more livestock and eventually hire more people and make this ranch a real going concern, not just a little farm where one or two people can barely eke out a living.”

“Sounds ambitious. You really do have dreams for this place, don’t you?”

“I suppose so. I didn’t realize it myself until I came back.” She leaned toward him. “What do you say? Will you help me?”

Those eyes held too much interest for him to refuse. “All right. I will.”

That afternoon Benjamin reentered the house, and Pearl joined him in the kitchen.

“How’s she doing?” he asked.

Pearl shushed him, though not in an unkind way. “She’s asleep.”

He nodded and lowered his voice to just above a whisper. “Everything looks to be in good repair, except I saw a few places where the chicken coop could use some work. I should be able to get to that this week.”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

The absence of food on the table told him he’d finished his chores well before supper, much to his regret. According to his rumbling stomach, he could use a bite to eat. He could only hope the inn would have something good on their menu. “I’d best be getting along. See you tomorrow.”

Raised eyebrows indicated Pearl’s surprise. “You milked Pansy already?”

Pansy! He’d forgotten. And he wished Pearl had forgotten, too. Afraid of failure since he’d never milked a cow, he was desperate to escape the chore. He looked out a window to the sky, hoping the sun hadn’t settled too far. “It’s a little early for milking, isn’t it?”

“No. In fact, your timing couldn’t be better. You’ll find the bucket and milk stool in the barn.”

Instead of expressing gratitude for her guidance, Benjamin shuffled his foot from one side to the other and stared at the tip of his brown leather boot. “Oh.”

“What’s the matter? Has the sun gotten to you? Are you feeling too poorly to milk Pansy?” She peered into his face, her expression much like that of a concerned nurse. “My, but sweat is just pouring down the sides of your face. I reckon the sun can get pretty hot out there when you’re used to being inside all day.” Pearl glided to the kitchen counter and picked up a transparent pitcher. “Here. Let me get you a glass of water. That might cool you off.”

Benjamin wanted to lie and tell Pearl that indeed he felt sickly and wanted to go back to his room at the inn right away. But he realized that excuse would only buy him that afternoon. The next day he’d have to tell her the truth. Besides, if he was going to be more like the man Pearl wanted him to be, he couldn’t start out by lying to her now.

He cleared his throat. “A glass of water would be nice, but I’m right as rain physically.”

Pearl handed him the water. “That’s good to hear. But you seem hesitant. Why?”

Stalling for time, he took a gulp of water. Never could he remember feeling so stupid. “I—I don’t think I can milk Pansy.”

“Why ever not?”

He paused. “Truth be told, I don’t know how.”

She opened her mouth as if to say something, then burst into laughter.

This time it was Benjamin’s turn to shush her. “Do you want to wake your ma? Besides, I don’t see what’s so funny.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just that it never occurred to me you wouldn’t know what to do. But why would you? You’ve never had to tend livestock before in your life.” Pearl looked toward her mother’s open door and back. “I think Ma should be fine. Come on. I’ll give you a lesson.”

Embarrassed that Pearl had to discover his ineptitude but grateful she was willing to help him learn, Benjamin watched her lure Pansy to the barn with the ease of a woman familiar with the task. Soon they were situated. A honey brown creature with big brown eyes, Pansy chewed her feed while regarding him with what seemed to be nonchalant disdain.

“I’ll be gentle, Pansy,” he assured her.

“She doesn’t look too worried.” Pearl placed a bucket underneath the animal’s udders. She set the stool beside the cow and sat down.

Benjamin noticed the cow’s bag looked plenty big, and he wondered how long the process of extracting the milk would take.

“Here’s how it’s done.” Pearl reached for a teat, gripped it, and squeezed a stream of milk into the pail as though the motion were the most natural thing in the world. The cow remained unperturbed, chewing and swishing her tail. Pearl drew two more streams of milk into the bucket, the liquid hitting the bottom of the metal bucket with force.

“You make that look easy enough.”

“It is easy. You’ll learn in no time.” She rose from the stool. “Now you try.”

“I was hoping you were having so much fun you’d keep at it yourself,” he only half jested.

Pearl smiled and pointed to the stool.

Benjamin took the seat. He chose the nearest udder and gripped it gently. For some reason, the animal’s warmth, conveyed through thick pink skin covered with sparse but coarse white hairs, took him aback. He let go.

“Everything all right?”

He nodded. “Yep.” Taking a breath, he tried again, forcing himself to become accustomed to the cow. This time he pulled. No milk resulted.

“You have to pull a little harder,” Pearl advised. “Try an udder on the other side. Don’t be scared. Pansy can sense your fear.”

His manly pride took a blow at such a term, but he knew Pearl meant well. He nodded and yanked. This time a stream of milk came at him, and good. The milk missed the bucket and landed on his thigh.

“Don’t get discouraged. Happens to all of us.” Pearl grinned, looking as though she’d held back a big guffaw.

The idea that Pearl was amused by his clumsiness left him in ire. Determined to succeed, he grabbed a back udder and aimed it at the bucket. He yanked.

He heard Pansy’s angry moo, then felt a kick. With a sharp hoof the animal struck him in the leg with such force that Benjamin fell off the stool and yelped.

“Benjamin!” Pearl knelt beside him, all traces of mirth absent from her expression. “Are you all right?”

He righted himself though pain reminded him of the encounter with Pansy. “I reckon so.” He grimaced.

“Don’t try to stand up. Not yet. Just stay there for a moment.”

Benjamin didn’t argue. Intense pain left him with little choice.

“You don’t think your leg is broken, do you?” Fear penetrated her voice.

Benjamin shook his head. “I’m just bruised, that’s all.”

“You’ll have a right good bruise, I’m sure,” Pearl speculated. “Do you feel like getting up yet?”

He nodded and, with some difficulty, rose in stages.

Pearl nodded toward a bale of hay. “You sit on down.”

He hobbled to the hay, wishing he’d been gentler with Pansy. He’d let his foolish pride irk him and was suffering the consequences.

Meanwhile, Pearl consoled Pansy, patting the cow and rubbing her. Soon the beast breathed more slowly and resumed feeding.

Benjamin imagined Pansy was calmer than he was. “I’m sorry I made Pansy mad.”

“You didn’t mean to.” Pearl gave the animal one final pat then nodded toward the house. “Come on. Let’s go back. I’ll tend to you and then come back here and finish up later.”

If Benjamin were prone to blushing, he would have at that moment. He had proven a colossal failure. How could he ever expect to be of any use to Pearl?

“Don’t worry,” she consoled him. “You can try again tomorrow.”

Benjamin didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure he ever wanted to see another cow.

W
eeks later, Benjamin rose early on Sunday morning to escort Pearl to church. After long days of physical labor, he looked forward to an hour or so of sitting on a pew, listening to Preacher Giles, and praying and singing.

Since he was running late, he hurried with shaving and dressing and soon retrieved the Huberts’ buggy, which he had borrowed since he’d be taking Pearl to church. Trotting toward the ranch, he thought back on his time there, being part of Pearl’s new life. The first few days after he agreed to help bring the ranch up to its potential, he didn’t think he would survive. Pansy’s kick had been a setback, and his injured leg had impeded his progress as he tried to learn the ins and outs of ranching. But once he and Pansy became friends, he learned to milk her with as much ease as Pearl. He found that such a chore, along with the other labor, brought its own sense of pride in accomplishment. Even in the past, when he had outwitted other gamblers and taken home their money, he never felt proud of his day’s labor. On the ranch he did.

Pearl had said the ranch was small, and he reckoned it was by Texas standards, but the amount of work it entailed made it seem gigantic to him. First he had invested some time in making sure the fences, barn, and chicken coops were in good repair. As he approached Milk and Honey Ranch, he admired his handiwork.

He admired Pearl even more when he saw her waiting for him. Nearly unable to control himself, he took in a breath. Her Sunday dress, though simple, made her appear even more radiant than usual. He had barely called the horse to a stop before Pearl ran toward him and jumped into the buggy.

Benjamin marveled at how she managed to maintain a grip on her Bible while leaping into position. “Good morning!” He twisted his mouth into a wry grin.